


Coming Home

by SociallyIneptDork



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, BAMF Tony Stark, Bullying, Gen, Good Peter, Hugs, Hurt Peter, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Themes, Ned Leeds is a Good Bro, Parent Tony Stark, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter-centric, Precious Peter Parker, Protective Tony Stark, Self Confidence, Self-Discovery, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, Trans Peter Parker, Transphobia, for the record, peter is not ashamed of himself in spite of being shamed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-03
Updated: 2018-06-03
Packaged: 2019-05-17 17:38:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14836175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SociallyIneptDork/pseuds/SociallyIneptDork
Summary: Mr. Stark doesn't know about the scars on Peter's chest or the half-torn dress shoved into the very back of his closet. Does he?





	Coming Home

**Author's Note:**

> Again, implied/ referenced homophobia and bullying. Do not read if this triggers you, please! Take care of yourselves, my dears.

Peter forces himself to take deep breaths, pressing a cloth to his eyebrow. Well, at least the cut isn't bleeding anymore. It should be gone in a few hours thanks to his healing factor. Thank god.  
  
"Peter, you alright?" Ned asks from the other side of the bathroom door, clearly worried and a second away from bursting in if Peter doesn't answer. He glances at himself in the mirror for a few seconds and throws the rag into the garbage can, hoping that May wouldn't find it later and ask him what happened. He's already so tired of having to explain away the split lips and bloody knees as being from patrolling when they're from assholes at school who decided that to be proud was to be wicked, to be unashamed was to be broken.   
  
He must be broken then. He would never be ashamed.   
  
He has spent too many nights thirsting for more to settle for less.   
  
He is not afraid of anything they give him. He's Spider-Man, after all. Let them come and slam their fists against the walls of his soul. Let them break their own hands trying to shatter his all-encompassing love for the world and fail to so much as chip the walls. He refuses to let them make him bitter or afraid, refuses to submit.   
  
It's mostly Flash and Skip who gave him shit about being trans, and on most days they aren't physical but today is one of the days that they are. Hence the bleeding eyebrow.   
  
"Pete?"   
  
Peter opens the door, giving Ned a smile to reassure him that Peter, no matter what, is not going to break because of a few cuts and scrapes. He would rise like all the generations before him had risen against the fists and shields, refusing to be silenced, refusing to be cowed by the cruelty of the uninformed.   
  
"I'm fine, Ned."   
  
Ned sits beside him on the bed, placing his hand on Peter's shoulder, warm and welcoming and brown like the soft earth after it rained, a sharp contrast to the way that Skip's were cold and crimson like chalk on the pavement. Peter knows what Skip is because it's ingrained in his mind, his blood sings a song of alarm and panic every time he gets too close.   
  
You cannot spend your life on your knees and not know the look of someone who's getting ready to kick you to the ground.   
  
Skip is one of the people that May had told him about, that the people Peter met online tell stories about in whispers and stammering words.   
  
Skip is one of the people who enjoy nothing more than seeing his fellow people in suffering. Skip is one of the people who would kill one of them and act like he was doing God's will.   
  
"You should tell May," Ned whispers, fingers squeezing around Peter's shoulder. Peter's heart clenches with it. "She could tell the school and they'll shut that crap down fast."   
  
Peter shakes his head, "she can't know. She'll be worried and… I don't want her to worry. And I don't want to change schools either."   
  
"Why?"   
  
"Because," Peter sighs, trying to put it into words. "Anywhere I go, there's going to be someone who doesn't accept me. Anywhere I go, someone will object, have questions, call me things behind my back. It's just the way the world is, Ned. And it's okay."   
  
Ned's eyes flicked to the cut on Peter's eyebrow, his lips in a thin line, his fists clenched into a fist. Rage looks wrong on Ned, Peter decides. Ned's fists are not made for fighting like Peter's are, and Peter is glad for the softness in Ned's hands every time they comfort him. "It's not okay."   
  
"No," Peter concedes, shoulders deflating as he stares at his hands, pale now that the blood had been cleaned from them. "But it is what it is."   
  
"Does Iron Man know? I bet if he knew-" Ned began, wrath written across his face, looking the same way that May did when Peter came home after the fight in Germany.   
  
_Fight, boy, fight. Take the stars into your bleeding hands and shape your own destiny with it. Be hungry enough to devour the stars._     
  
"No! He doesn't know. He… doesn't need to know."   
  
The silence that greets his statement is the only thing that lets him know that Ned doesn't agree.   
  
\-   
  
Peter does not dream.   
  
Yet if he did, it would go like this.   
  
There is a party and he is in a suit, some faceless person at his arm and they dance to the beat of the drums. Laughter fills the air, so melodic it makes Peter grin upon hearing it. Ned is there, dancing as well, clapping Peter on the back and telling him he's happy that Peter finally came out. He hands Peter a bouquet of amaranth and roses and Peter takes it into his arms with a grin that Ned returns. May and Mr. Stark are somewhere in the middle of the dancing crowd and even though Peter cannot see them, he knows they wear nothing but cheerful smiles on their faces.   
  
In his dreams, there is no Flash with his taunting words, no Skip with his fists and eyes that do not hide how hungry he is for Peter's tears and blood. In his dreams, there is nobody to put him down and call him a name no longer his, and there is nobody to tell him how he's a disgrace to a god that sang the stars into burning. Instead of bloody knuckles, there are yellow roses around his feet, thrown by people with nothing but joy and pride in their eyes.   
  
Instead of pain, there is a lightness in his chest like the safety of May's arms and it feels like he's finally home. There is no hiding, no lies, no secrets about who caused the tears in Peter's eyes or the clench of his fists.     
  
He opens his eyes to a gray and empty room, his face damp with tears and his chest is filled with a yearning so strong it breaks him a little bit more inside. He shuts his eyes and wraps his arms around his chest, trying to ignore the gnawing feeling from the lack of roses in his arms.     
  
Not yet, but someday, he promises himself.   
  
One day he will dream and it will leave him feeling satisfaction instead of feeling like the stars are calling to his bones as storm clouds gather around his heart and spread lightning through his veins.   
  
One day he will find his home.   
\-   
  
Peter heals, he goes to school, he determinedly doesn't bring up school when he's with Mr. Stark. He spends more and more time with the man as the days go by, tinkering with him in the lab, watching movies, sometimes even doing nothing but talking. Skip and Flash don't bother him as much anymore now that finals are approaching, too busy with their work to bother with giving Peter a tough time.   
  
"So, Peter," Tony begins, fiddling with a pen as he stared at the hologram between them. "How have you been?"   
  
_I'm so tired I feel it in my bones_ , Peter longs to say but he doesn't. Mr. Stark doesn't know about the scars on his chest or the half-torn dress shoved into the very back of his closet. Neither does Mr. Stark know about the way his hair once reached the very small of his back, or about the ace bandages still in his backpack for the times when he was too afraid to buy a binder but looking at his body in the mirror made his mind scream _wrong! Wrong! Wrong!_     
  
Mr. Stark doesn't know he's trans and neither does Peter wish for him to know. Peter says it's because he's afraid but the truth of it is that he's not afraid of someone thinking less of him for being trans. He's not ashamed, has never been ashamed, would never be ashamed of being trans. He has spent too long hiding for him to meet people's eyes with anything less than defiant hope and determined self-acceptance.   
  
The truth is that he's afraid of Mr. Stark laughing, being overly casual or indifferent in the way he was with everyone that wasn't Peter, Pepper or Rhodey. He's scared of Mr. Stark in particular not understanding.   
  
Ben had died before Peter came out and he'd adored Peter but in some corner of his mind, Peter wonders if Ben would have been as accepting as May. He wonders if Ben, a police officer, would have found space in his heart for Peter regardless of whether Peter wanted to be a prince instead of a princess.   
  
Peter's afraid because Mr. Stark is the only thing close to a father-figure he has now and he can't afford to lose another one. He doesn't know if he could handle it again so soon after Ben.   
  
"I'm alright," is what Peter settles for in the end.   
  
Tony gives him a serious look, eyes calculating. "Just alright? What happened at school today?"   
  
"We had a math test. I'm pretty sure I passed."   
  
Tony hums, considering, then stands, turning his back to Peter. "Does anyone bother you at school, Peter?"   
  
The hammering in Peter's chest is so loud he could place a mic over his heart and join a rock band as their lead drummer. "Why- Why do you ask? Did Ned or May say something?"   
  
"No, I just happen to know what it's like to be a student. I was bullied and chances are you're being bullied too. What're their names? I'm assuming there's more than one, of course. Correct me if I'm wrong."   
  
Peter shakes his head, keeping his eyes away. "I'm not… I'm not being bullied, Mr. Stark. I can take care of myself, they're not that bad."   
  
"So someone is bothering you but you can handle it?" Tony asks, his mouth twisting. Peter internally curses himself for his slip, grabbing his water bottle and opening it to have something to do with his hands and buy some time while drinking. Now is not the time or the place for this. He can't let Mr. Stark know. He can't!   
  
He just can't.   
  
"I mean… I'm okay, Mr. Stark."   
  
"Are you?" Tony retorts immediately in his I-know-you're-bullshitting-me tone, and it is then that Peter crumbles, something crackling in his chest and something else flooding forward.   
  
Peter took in a deep breath that rattled on its way in, trying to keep his eyes from filling with tears. "It's okay. They're not that bad, they just say things," he says. He can deal with whatever they give him. They've hurt him, sure, but they're not that bad. It's not like they've done anything worse than pushing him around and harassing him in the halls.   
  
He's spent some nights wondering why he deals with their crap at all when he could kick all of their asses while blind-folded, but on some level, he knows why: if they won't hesitate to hurt him, they won't hesitate to hurt others. He can take it but others might not be so lucky to have been bitten by a radioactive spider and given super strength and rapid healing.   
  
Mr. Stark's eyes are gentle, not demanding or pushy but it's obvious he doesn't want to let this go. "What do they say, Pete?"   
  
"Just the usual, you know. I'm going to hell, I'm a disgrace, a freak, the usual stuff. I mean, sometimes Flash say things that are a bit worse, but usually it's just that and Skip usually sticks to pushing me around from time to time."   
  
Tony's eyes go cold and he brings his fist to his mouth, looking at Peter with squinted eyes. "They say these things to you? Regularly?" Peter nods and Tony sighs, shaking his head with a frown at the new information. Peter knows the look to be one of sadness and worry. "Is it because you're transgender?"   
  
Peter sputters, almost spitting all the water out all over his algebra book. Is it because of WHAT? He knows? How long has he known? Peter's nose burns in protest but he ignores it, meeting Mr. Stark's even gaze with wide eyes. "What?"   
  
"Is it because you're transgender?" Tony repeats for him, his voice clear and bordering on casual like he was asking _did you watch the game last nigh_ t or _do you want a glass of milk with those cookies_  instead of... that.   
  
Okay, what's the likelihood of slipping into an alternate reality or going into a coma and dreaming up a whole different reality?   
  
After a few moments of staring slack-jawed at Mr. Stark who just keeps fiddling with his pen and waiting for an answer, Peter nods hesitantly. "How did… you know?"   
  
Tony looks away, scratching at his beard. "You remember that time you almost drowned so I took you to my medical bay?" At Peter's response in the affirmative, he continues. "After you passed out, I had to take off your shirt to make sure the cut on your sides weren't fatal so I saw the scars and figured it out. I did my research." He shrugs like what he's saying isn't making Peter's head spin.   
  
That was 6 months ago.   
  
Half a year.   
  
Peter's been hiding for half a year without knowing Mr. Stark knew about him being trans.   
  
"Why didn't you say anything?" Peter asks, indignant and most definitely torn between laughing and crying because he's been so _terrified_  for so _long_  and it was all for nothing. When he woke up in a different shirt, he'd assumed some faceless nurse he'd never see again had been the one to change his shirt. Mr. Stark came in when Peter was awake, scolding him for his risk-taking, not once hinting at the fact that he saw the scars on Peter's chest and understood the implications behind it.   
  
What. the. fuck?   
  
"I assumed you'd tell me when you were ready or maybe you just didn't want to talk about it," Tony admits, guilt etched across his face, unhidden and unguarded so Peter could see it and know he was being real. "I am sorry, I didn't mean to invade your privacy or anything. I had no clue beforehand. I just wanted to make sure you weren't on the verge of death, but I'm being sincere when I say I'm sorry. Not a very common thing for me to say, kiddo. But I understand if you're angry."   
  
There are no words to say. Peter's eyes fill with tears and for the first time in what feels like forever it's not because of sadness or hurt. "You-!" He launches himself at Mr. Stark, wrapping his arms around the man who just returns the embrace, letting Peter cry into his shirt like a lost and confused toddler. "I was so scared you wouldn't understand or that you- you'd treat me different! I thought you wouldn't get it and I was hiding all this time and-"   
  
"It's alright, Pete," Tony says, his chin on Peter's head. "I understand. Sometimes the world isn't as kind as we want it to be. It'll be alright though, I've got you."   
  
Peter spends an embarrassing amount of time latched to Mr. Stark, wiping his eyes with his sleeve and laughing when he pulls away. "Sorry."   
  
"Don't be," Tony says with a grin, clapping Peter on the shoulder. "Say, it's Pride Month, yeah? What say you we go to the parade?"   
  
Peter laughs, incredulous. "You? You're not worried what people will say about you?"   
  
Tony scoffs. "As if I've ever let that stop me before. I usually go in civilian when I go, but it's up to you. Do you wanna go as Spider-Man or as Peter?"   
  
This is going to be Peter's first parade. The last few years he's either been too scared or too confused about who he was to go. "Peter," he responds because he doesn't think he can handle going and having people snapping pictures of him or making it a big deal. He just wants to be himself for one day and not be scared that someone's going to make a smart comment.   
  
"Alright, then we'll go in civilian wear."   
  
Something clicked in Peter's mind. "Wait, Mr. Stark? What do you mean when you go? How often do you go to pride parades?"   
  
Tony's lips turned up. "Sharp ears, Spiderling. I've gone a lot of times since I was about 18 or 19. It wasn't as friendly or happy back then, it was tough on the LGBT community. A lot of people throwing bottles, putting up crude signs, yelling slurs left and right. It felt a bit like a march of shame than anything, like the entire world was watching and shaming us but as time passed, it became a happier and safer place to be for people who don't fit in anywhere else. It became less of a statement of "I'm a human" and more of "we're people". Does that make sense? It's different, you know. Feeling human and feeling like a person can be two very different things."   
  
Peter squinted, trying to understand. Being a human meant being someone who could feel heat and warmth, it meant having a life but not necessarily living. Being a person meant being someone with emotions, someone with needs and wants and intricacies and curves and edges.   
  
It made sense.   
  
"I get it," Peter responded, smiling at Mr. Stark, not quite ready to ask Mr. Stark why he goes to a pride parade yet. Maybe in time, but not yet.   
  
Tony gave him a sharp nod, standing. "Alright, let's go."   
  
"Go? Where are we going to go? It's only 4 pm." Peter stands, fiddling with his sleeves that are a bit too long, looking at Mr. Stark with confusion in his eyes.   
  
"Exactly. We're going to your school. I have some words to have with Flash and Skip." Mr. Stark grabs his keys from the counter, pocketing them and making sure his phone is in his pocket as well.   
  
Oh. Oh _no_. "Mr. Stark, it's really not that bad. I can take care of myself. They haven't bothered me in a while!" Peter frantically says, his heart beginning to pound again at the idea of confronting Skip and Flash. Something told him that would only make them harass him more instead of making them stop, escalating until it all went boom!   
  
Mr. Stark considers his words for a second, obviously not assured.   
  
"If they do anything again I promise I'll let you know."   
  
With that, Tony nods, shoulders untensing. "Cool. Good talk. Let's go grab some ice cream and maybe some pizza. You wanna watch a movie or something? I saw this one good movie recently I think you might enjoy. It has superpowers in it and all that stuff you seem to like."   
  
Something in Peter's chest withers and something else blooms to life, like his backward heart was pulled out and then put back right. It aches in the most tender of ways.   
  
And Peter knows this is what it must feel like for a tired heart to open up for healing, the moment so soft it will live in Peter's memory forever, untarnishable like hyacinth and amaranths growing in the darkest parts of his mind, blooming with color amidst the monochrome backdrop.   
  
This is what it must feel like to have a family open up to add one more person.   
  
This is what it must feel like to know he is home.

**Author's Note:**

> I cannot even put into words how touching and heartwarming everyone's reactions to this fic has been. From the bottom of my heart, I really appreciate it.
> 
> This fic is very personal to me as a transboy still in the coming-out stage and it is extremely close to my heart. I am overjoyed at the warm reception it received from everyone who read it and left kind comments. Thank you.


End file.
